


Planted a Seed

by diemarysues



Series: Marriage in the Manner of Dwarves [8]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin put his mouth close to Bilbo’s ear. “My plans involve pressing you down onto the green grass, with your heels on my shoulders and my fingers in your –”</p><p> </p><p>“<i>Thorin</i>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Planted a Seed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syxx/gifts).



> Sequel to 'Lying By Your Side'. Gosh, this series is just fluff and smut, isn't it?
> 
> Thanks to alkjira for the read through.
> 
> Edit: It's fairly typical that my 100th post on AO3 is a smut fic. Really.

The grass was cool and crisp when Bilbo sunk his hands into it, lush blades sticking up between his fingers. There’d be stains to see to when the day was over, but for now Bilbo breathed in the scent of the rich earth, and relaxed.

 

It was almost mid-spring, and this was the first time Thorin had joined him in his new garden (bar the time when his husband had presented it to Bilbo in the first place, that is). Reasonable, considering that the Dwarf was King and had more pressing matters to attend to than humouring his Hobbit Consort. Still, they’d both been able to squirrel some time away for themselves, and Bilbo basked in the sunlight and his husband’s presence both.

 

A light breeze sifted through his curls and Bilbo let his eyes slip closed. “How long do you have?” he asked, smiling when Thorin shifted closer.

 

“Long enough,” was the reply, and oh, how he loved Thorin’s deep voice. (Had loved it since the first night they’d met, even if he’d not have admitted it then.)

 

“You are well aware that even five minutes can be long enough,” Bilbo said slyly, throwing a grin over his shoulder.

 

This earned him a bark of laughter. “Very well, my fastidious Consort; we shan’t be disturbed until lunch time.”

 

“We’d better not be disturbed!” What a horrifying thought. This was the first time in awhile that they’d been able to spend more than a few moments alone together; being interrupted would just ruin things.

 

Thorin’s hand smoothed over the curve of Bilbo’s waist, immediately calming him. “Don’t worry, no one is allowed here without permission. I made sure of it.”

 

“…you’re lucky I want to be alone with you today, else I’d scold you for that.”

 

“For what?” The frown was very much audible in Thorin’s tone; Bilbo looked back and yes, those thick eyebrows were knitted together in an impressive glower. It was endearing and utterly typical.

 

“You can’t just forbid people from going where they wish!”

 

“I rather thought that was a perk of being King.”

 

Bilbo rolled his eyes, turning again to look over the empty soil beds. “That’s not what I meant, you know quite well.”

 

“Hmm.” Thorin’s hand traced an imaginary path along Bilbo’s side, up to his ribs. His fingers were distracting, as always. “Isn’t this your private garden?”

 

“Yes, but –”

 

“Then visitors are not allowed. Or at least, not allowed without explicit permission.”

 

“…while I will concede that you have a point there, surely the permission should be meted out by _me_ , instead of you.”

 

Serenely ignoring this, Thorin squeezed Bilbo’s side affectionately and asked, “So, have you come up with an arrangement? You were fussing about it this morning.”

 

The only sign of his irritation (continued and anew) was a twitch of his shoulder. “I have.”

 

“…and you’re not going to tell me?”

 

Bilbo once again turned his head to face Thorin. “Are you actually going to listen? Or remember?” His husband had very many interests and strengths, and gardening was not either of these.

 

He was awarded a winning smile. “After we’re done here you can test me, if you wish.”

 

“Very well.” Shifting his weight, Bilbo pointed out the nearest row of soil beds. “These are part of the first terrace, you see. I’m thinking of planting soft and hard herbs here, though I still have to ask which grow best in this climate.”

 

“And what will you do with your herbs?”

 

“Use them for cooking, of course.” Really, what else was he supposed to do? Bilbo was quite sure that he’d expounded on the taste and benefits of different herbs years ago, when he and Thorin had still been courting. Then again, Thorin hadn’t furthered his cooking skills since that time. “Maybe you could join me when that happens.”

 

Thorin hooked his chin over Bilbo’s shoulder. “Maybe.” His hair, which had been pulled into a single tail before escaping its tie, tickled the side of Bilbo’s neck. “What about the other terrace? I notice the archway is not solid.”

 

Locking his elbows, Bilbo nodded. “I’d like a climbing vine. Roses, possibly.”

 

“Plants can climb?” It was a little difficult to gauge whether Thorin was having him on or not, given that Bilbo’s gaze was firmly fixed on the grass instead of on his husband’s expression. “I did not know.”

 

“Oh – oh yes. Plants like, like sweet peas and honeysuckle, hydrangeas and firethorns.”

 

“And roses.”

 

“Yes.” Bilbo’s knees slipped a little against the slippery grass, parting a little further. “Yes, roses.”

 

“But that is only for the archway. What about the rest? It is rather a large area.”

 

“Thorin, I really don’t think this is the time –”

 

“It’s the perfect time.” There was the barest hint of teasing in his King’s voice, just as the kiss he pressed to the point of Bilbo’s ear was teasing. “We are in your garden, after all; what better way to envision –”

 

“We may be in my garden, but the fact that your fingers are in me – instead of what I _want_ – rather changes things, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Thorin chuckled as he again pressed a kiss to the side of Bilbo’s head, and twisted his fingers to hear Bilbo gasp. “What do you want, then, dear one?” His free hand crept across Bilbo’s chest and rested over his racing heart.

 

He trusted his weight to Thorin, reaching behind to sink his hands into dark hair. He pulled on soft locks, twining and tangling them around his fingers, and Thorin absolutely did not object. He groaned softly, beard rubbed delightfully against the back of Bilbo’s neck, raising gooseflesh and making him shiver.

 

“I want you.” Bilbo moaned, pushing his hips back onto Thorin’s thick fingers. They were skilful as always, sliding and prodding inside of him, brushing against his little nub on every other stroke. “Only you.”

 

It had been some time since their teasing conversation about plans and proper placement of knees, but as Bilbo had learned earlier that morning, Thorin had an excellent memory. Bilbo’s innocent intentions for their time in the garden had been dashed away as soon as his husband undid the Hobbit’s belt – not that he’d later put up much of a fuss.

 

Now they were both completely unclothed; the sun warmed their bared skin while the wind cooled it. Truly a beautiful day to be outside, and – a shiver ran up Bilbo’s spine – it was strangely thrilling to be participating in _activities_ with his husband. He supposed he could admit (in the privacy of his own head) that forbidding entry to the garden had been a wise choice on Thorin’s part. Just for today.

 

His knees slipped again.

 

Thorin’s attention was still on the back of Bilbo’s neck, nipping with his blunt teeth. Bilbo let his head drop, chin almost to his chest. There were three fingers inside of him, slick with oil and entirely too sure; the wet sounds they made as Thorin moved his hand were embarrassingly obscene, making Bilbo’s ears heat and go red.

 

Bilbo couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he spilled but knew very well that he did, vision gone white and thighs shaking. Some seed from his untouched cock landed on his own body. Bilbo trembled in Thorin’s arms and let himself be soothed along his orgasm.

 

Once he’d caught his breath and had been messily cleaned, Bilbo pushed Thorin flat onto his back. He lay atop his husband, joining their lips gently, thighs spread wide to straddle Thorin’s bulk.

 

He pulled back, gazing at Thorin. The Dwarf’s thick locks were spread out underneath his head like a fan. “This looks familiar,” Bilbo teased. “All we’re missing is an audience, though I’m rather glad for it.”

 

“We are also missing clothes, my darling Hobbit.” Thorin’s palms cupped Bilbo’s bare arse to emphasize his point. “Not that I am complaining.”

 

“Our clothes are within reach, you know.”

 

“Aye, but the point is that we aren’t wearing them. If we were, I would not be able to…” Thorin trailed off, stretching two fingers, pressing them lightly against the still-slick and still-sensitive furl of muscle between Bilbo’s arsecheeks.

 

Bilbo hissed into Thorin’s mouth, curling their tongues together. He put his hands on Thorin’s cheeks, stroking the bristly beard and feeling the heat of Thorin’s flush against his palms. His cock lay between their bodies, soft, but Bilbo had the feeling that it would soon ‘liven up’. In the meantime…

 

He released Thorin’s lips for his neck; his moan when Thorin squeezed his handfuls echoed the Dwarf’s own. Considering that Thorin – as most Dwarves – favoured high-collared undershirts, Bilbo didn’t feel overly wicked as he set his teeth to smooth skin. He felt the vibrations of Thorin’s curses against his lips, the apple of Thorin’s throat bobbing as Bilbo worried with his teeth and soothed with his tongue.

 

Thorin’s hands were now caressing over Bilbo’s back and sides, smoothing in slow strokes, warm and weighty; already pliant from spending himself earlier, Bilbo relaxed, _melted_ , into Thorin’s body. He reached up for another kiss. The first attempt landed on Thorin’s bearded chin, sloppy. They shared a chuckle, and Thorin obligingly met Bilbo halfway, their kisses languid and tender.

 

“How do you want me?” Bilbo whispered. He had to stretch his hand down between them, catching silky skin stretched over Thorin’s hard length. He grinned at the intake of breath this earned. “Shall I stroke you to spilling, or let you mindlessly rut against my body? Or will you slip _into_ my body, where you had your fingers earlier?”

 

If anything, Thorin looked to be more affected by Bilbo’s words than the wandering, maddening fingers on his cock. Or perhaps equally affected. “What do you –” Thorin’s eyes squeezed shut, mouth working soundlessly as Bilbo serenely looked on and continued the slow motion of his hand. “What do you want, my Hobbit?”

 

Instead of answering, Bilbo impudently stole another kiss – he was a burglar, after all – pulling back and meeting pale blue eyes before slinking down Thorin’s strong body. He pushed Thorin’s thighs apart insistently, mouth and lips and tongue reverent as he moved from neck to chest to belly.

 

Trembling fingers threaded though his curls; Bilbo looked up. Thorin was braced on the elbow of his other arm, and it was amazing how ruined he looked even before Bilbo had a chance to put his mouth to use. He raised his eyebrows.

 

“My Consort, my comely husband…” He tugged on gold-brown hair. Bilbo’s eyelids fluttered in pleasure. “If only you could see how bewitching you look.” Thorin drew his knees up so that his thighs framed Bilbo’s head; a position that left him beautifully exposed.

 

Bilbo smiled, hand still slowly pumping Thorin’s cock. “I rather think I have the better view.” Not only that, the smell of Thorin was thick in Bilbo’s lungs, making him giddy and lustful – and soon he would have that salty-bitter taste all over his tongue, a taste he neither liked nor disliked but found addictive all the same.

 

Thorin returned the smile, colour high in his cheeks. “Your tongue is, as ever, wonderfully talented –”

 

The Hobbit – perhaps being a little rude – decided to interrupt Thorin’s waxing lyrical by the simple virtue of using that ‘talented tongue’, licking a broad stripe up the cock in hand. Thorin’s elbow slipped from beneath him, leaving him flat on his back again.

 

Bilbo lavished attention on the swollen head with the tiniest of licks and sucks, almost tentatively, as if he’d never done this before. A downright lie, of course, but he was enamoured by the way Thorin twitched and groaned beneath him. Rubbing his thumb in the crease between the base of Thorin’s cock and his bollocks made his husband arch, neck exposed and the tendons pulled taut.

 

He continued on his campaign to eke Thorin’s pleasure out, dipping further and further down but never taking the whole of Thorin’s cock into his mouth. He could not see Thorin’s expression from his position, given that Thorin’s head was thrown back as it was, but he could see the tight column of his neck, the angry-red mark he’d left, and below, his heaving chest and strong abdomen. Every line of his body was drawn taut; as Bilbo had one hand braced on Thorin’s thigh and the other locked around the base of Thorin’s cock, he knew quite well that it was his husband’s willpower preventing any choking.

 

Oh, but Thorin was beautiful – with his clothes and armour, and without – and Bilbo felt very powerful indeed, reducing his mighty husband to clenched fists and bitten-off curses.

 

Moving his hand down and up again, he let Thorin’s length leak over his fingers before bending down to lap up the liquid. Bilbo smiled a little, imagining that he had a lolly in hand instead of a hot, hard cock.

 

With what looked like massive effort, Thorin propped himself up on his elbow again. His beard could not hide his deep flush and his thin lips looked bitten raw. He pushed his hair off his sweat-beaded forehead with his free hand, flexing the muscles of that arm and catching hazel eyes. “Bilbo – please.”

 

Bilbo’s entire body twitched, pleasure surging down his spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake. Of all the things he had seen and heard and experienced, nothing was as seductive as Thorin begging. Nothing.

 

“ _Please_.”

 

Of course, faced with such desperation, Bilbo should have obliged and finished his husband off. Should have.

 

“About that second terrace…” He smiled, watching first confusion, then frustration cross Thorin’s face. Letting his thumb idly stroke to and fro, Bilbo said, “I think that will be my flower garden. It will take some careful work, but I’m sure the results will be stunning. Don’t you think so?”

 

“Bilbo, don’t stop now, don’t –”

 

“Camelias and carnations will be nice. They’ve a wide array of colours – I’ll have to see what kinds the Men have. Or even if they have them.” He cupped Thorin’s bollocks in his free hand, squeezing _very_ lightly, almost absently. “I suppose it is a real possibility that they’d not have the flowers I want, given how Laketown didn’t seem to have much greenery.”

 

“– do not be so cruel –”

 

“Though, now that I think of it, perhaps Beorn can be of help. If he has bees, and beehives, no doubt there’ll be flowers –”

 

“ _Bilbo_.”

 

He smiled, completely stilling both his hands. “Yes?”

 

Thorin had pushed himself further off the ground; he barely had to reach to cup Bilbo’s face in his hand. “I – I apologise, for earlier.”

 

“Earlier?” Bilbo forced the smile from his lips, frowning. “What happened earlier?”

 

“When I teased you – like you are teasing me now, I –”

 

“Wait.”

 

Thorin closed his mouth, confused and wary.

 

“Does this mean you _weren’t_ interested in my garden?” When Thorin groaned loudly, dropping back onto the grass, Bilbo laughed. He was still snickering as he climbed back up his husband’s body, settling his chin on the hands he’d rested on Thorin’s chest. “You are easily riled, dearheart.”

 

“May I remind you that while I did indeed tease, I did not deny you release.” Brows furrowed, Thorin muttered, “Unlike you.”

 

“I am not denying you anything – only delaying.” Bilbo smiled at his sulking husband, and stretched to put his lips to a rounded ear. “Let me back on my knees and you can take your fill.”

 

Thorin didn’t need to be told twice. He took Bilbo’s mouth in a rough kiss before urging him into position, on hands and knees. Bilbo unashamedly wriggled his hips enticingly (he hoped it was enticing), folding himself so his head was pillowed on his forearms, arse pushed high into the air.

 

Wonderfully stretched as he was, Thorin slipped in almost without resistance. Bilbo mewled when Thorin immediately set a punishing pace, one large hand curling around his body to take Bilbo’s cock in hand. He did not know how his Dwarf could have such rigid control; all Bilbo could do was gasp and squirm, chanting Thorin’s name between quick breaths.

 

He couldn’t tell how much time passed – all Bilbo was aware of was the pleasure, ever steadily mounting, and then he was again spilling, crying out.

 

It wasn’t long after that Thorin followed suit, pushing in to the hilt and staying there. Khuzdul and Common dripped from his lips as he shook, and Bilbo whimpered when the hand around his spent cock did not cease moving.

 

Before long they both disentangled themselves from each other; Bilbo sprawled again over Thorin, humming softly as rough palms settled in the dips on either side of his spine, at the small of his back. He was almost prepared to doze when a thought struck him and made him giggle.

 

“What is it?” Thorin asked, voice hoarse.

 

Bilbo snickered for a moment more before answering. “It appears we’ve already sowed the first seeds of my garden.”

 

Thorin swatted him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hobbit Big Bang!](http://hobbitstory.livejournal.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> We will never escape the puns.


End file.
